


Aversion

by SebastienneKnight



Category: Bleach
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Bondage and Discipline, Dom/sub, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Guilt, Guilty Pleasures, Masturbation, Rope Bondage, Sexual Content, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-27 03:35:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/657596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SebastienneKnight/pseuds/SebastienneKnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alone, or so she thinks, in the Kuchiki mansion, a sleepless Rukia investigates a strange sound and discovers her haughty brother as she has never seen him before. Can she handle the captain's dark, hungry side?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Demons

**Author's Note:**

> A work I originally had up on FF.net, but have edited a little - happy to be here on A03! ByaRuki. Mature content, S&M. Reviews/crit welcome.

The wind was a wolf tonight, snarling, shaking blossom from the cherry trees outside the mansion. The candles trembled in their golden holsters, like frightened students before the slavering bloodmerchant that was Captain Zaraki. Sat on the bed, brushing her soft black hair, Rukia wondered where everybody was. This place was beginning to feel like a haunted castle - the miles of corridoors and dust-sheeted rooms seemed to be waiting for someone who would never return. Byakuya demanded absolute cleanliness, along with spectral silence on the part of the servants. It could be dull and terrifying in equal measures.

Rukia couldn't sleep. She had rested sporadically at best throughout the weeks following her attempted execution, and these last three nights, sleep had evaded her like a leaf in a gale. She often felt like a ghost these days, granted extra time, inexplicably grateful, even to the man who would have seen her beheaded simply to uphold text in an ancient book. She coughed, and the small hack echoed round the room and skittered into the hall outside.

Maybe water would help, or perhaps some of the sake Captain Kyorakou had jokingly placed in her brother's cold palm one festival day, to a typically frosty reception. She left her bedroom and headed towards the scullery, walking past his room. The door, as ever, was shut. He did not lock it though. If he had anything to hide, he would certainly have hidden it impossibly; she was certain he knew of her lock-picking skills. There was very little Byakuya did not know about her. Little, though some things she hoped were hers and hers alone. Still, worth a look. She pushed open the gilded oak.

Pristine white covers, as smooth and snowy as his captain's coat. A shining floor like a wooden lake. On the desk, neatly lined-up brushes and inks sat beside a part-worked calligraphic nightingale. It seemed that the only pleasure for Byakuya came through his art. He liked to be alone, just as he loved the quiet, and never exhibited or showed his work, but kept it in beautiful linen portfolios tied with satin, either in his bureau or in a corner of the extensive Kuchiki library. These sleepless nights, she often snuck to his closed door and listened for the soft sound of the brush being pulled across paper and the tinkle of wood against the rim of the water jar. It comforted Rukia to imaginine her brother, his grey eyes focused, not determinedly on a host of hollows, or furiously on a late subordinate, but softly, kindly, on each lick of ink, as the bird danced beneath his beautiful white fingers.

And he was beautiful, as striking as he was privileged, with his perfect, pale skin, fragile cheekbones, intense charcoal eyes and glossy rain of black hair. Whereas Yumichika cultivated his good looks, preening and perfecting endlessly, Byakuya's seemed to have fallen across him at birth like a priceless cloak, the benefactor unthanked. Sometimes the scrappy Rukon District thief in Rukia hated him for this even more than she hated him for his frigidity, or for having signed her death warrant. How could one person have so much and be so selfish?

Irritated, Rukia kicked the leg of her brother's antique double bedstead and ruffled the corner of the sheet, before, gripped by a small fear, pressing it flat again. What a waste of such a luxurious bed. Despite the rabid attentions of so many of the female soul reapers, he would never bring any of them back here. Perhaps he was still mourning Hisana, but that was so long ago. More likely he had just shut down completely, trimming off any stray emotions in order to become a machine of pride, discipline and honour. Or maybe he'd been hollow from the start. She was about to boot the frame a second time when a strange sound caught her ear.

Puzzled, Rukia stepped into the lavish hallway and looked around. There it was again. Sounded like paper being slowly, rhythmically torn in half, again and again, followed by the low growl of a pained animal. Following the noise, she ran down three flights of velvet stairs until she came across a half-hidden door, draped across with a black cloth. The sharp, threshing sound continued, each time followed by the beast-like cry. What was happening through there? Fear came easily to Rukia, and held her now like a body brace. Nevertheless, she put her hand on her zanpakuto and silently pushed through the doorway.

It was dark, as the small shinigami tiptoed down the stairs. The tearing sound was as steady as it had been previously, though the animal in pain had grown louder. Through a porchway at the bottom of the stone steps, two figures could be made out. Rukia gasped.

"Sir..." began the standing figure.

"I did not tell you to stop," growled the hunched apparition to his left.

"Please, Sir, I...must I? Why must I...?

"No questions. Know only that it helps me." The bent figure raised his sweat-soaked head, that unmistakeable profile shining in the dim light.

Byakuya stood, shirtless, bracing his trembling body against a strong barrel. Long, ravenwing hair hung damply over his face and his tightly muscled back was ribboned with deep cuts. As the manservant closed his eyes and took a step back, Rukia realised what must have made those pained, feral sounds. The whip cracked cruelly across her brother's back.

Byakuya winced and cried out, as the servant prepared to cast the whip again. From her shadowed corner, watching the captain's ordeal, Rukia was horrified. But as he cried out, she realised this was the most emotion she had ever heard him release. And then, unbidden, the thought: did he make these sounds with Hisana?

Suddenly, with the whip's lash and the half-stripped Byakuya's cries echoing around her, Rukia found herself imagining something she had forbidden herself, ever since the day the beautiful noble had first spoken to her and her stomach had knotted, blood thundering around her petite system.

In her mind, Byakuya was naked, lying on his pristine bed with his eyes closed. At first she thought him asleep, but then his strong, slender hand began to slide down that taut stomach, skilled fingers surrounding tightly what they found there. Byakuya Kuchiki, ice prince and flawless paragon, began to caress and pull the hardness between his legs, slowly at first, a small moan escaping his lips. He applied those neat nails, digging in with those tiny blades, and inhaled sharply, moaning louder as he touched himself.

"Oh...oh," he murmured, eyes tightly shut, agony and pleasure flashing beneath that stoic mask, threatening to crack it. "Forgive me. Please, harder, please...harder...oh God..."

The whip broke her daydream, and Rukia found her cheeks burning. Her adopted brother! Byakuya, who even now was piously punishing himself for some imagined crime, Byakuya would be so disgusted, so horribly disappointed if he knew that she...

"Nnnhhh!" grimaced the captain, as the lash came down on his tortured back, but suddenly his expression cleared, his eyes closed, and a softer sound emerged: "nnh...Ru..."

Her name! What did this mean?

The blood spiking her cheeks, she suddenly noticed the large erection outlining his hakama as he hunched and braced, those finely toned legs shaking. The lash again, the grunt and moan. The ice prince was gone. His gorgeous cheekbones edged in scarlet, Byakuya was a sweating, extremely aroused mess, his hands struggling not to touch the aching hardness and bring sweet relief.

"Sir!" The servant, disturbed by his heinous task, put aside the whip.

This time, the noble did not notice. The servant fled as Captain Kuchiki fell to the ground, one hand skating over the front of his hakama, murmuring, "forgive me... forgive me..."

As she watched, Rukia found her own hand slipping between the folds of her robe, shocked at how wet she was getting. It was the most arousing vision she had ever seen. Beaten and bloody, erect and topless, his impeccable mane sodden with sweat, Captain Kuchiki lay on the floor of the cellar, shaking like a warrior battling a curse.

Thrusting three fingers inside herself, Rukia began to pump them hotly in and out, giving out tiny gasps as she watching her brother's expression, at first pained and helpless, become blank, as if he were taking flight. She imagined his fingers taking over, wanted him inside her, roughly and deeply. She desperately wanted to spring upon this armourless moment and feel his smooth, strong body pinning her, pushing into her, a lock of ravenwing hair stroking her shoulder, those fine lips husking her name into her ear.

What was once Byakuya continued to sigh, "Don't... don't stop..." Braced against a marble pillar, his body trembled furiously before tensing in a calligraphic arc, his orgasm shattering him.

Rukia, her slender body shaking too, removed her sodden fingers, slid down the wall and sat for a second. Then, fevered and confused, she stood and stumbled to her room, leaving the captain lying on the cold floor like a leaf.


	2. Shame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after Rukia's spying trip. Does Byakuya know what she saw?

Sitting at the low cherrywood breakfast table the next morning, Rukia couldn’t touch her food. For a full fifteen minutes, she pushed her rice around the bowl, and every so often her eyes panned nervously to the door.

“Is something the matter, Lady Kuchiki?” asked one of the attendant servants. “Is the food badly cooked?”

“Oh no, it’s fine thank you,” she murmured. “I guess I’m not hungry.” She laid her chopsticks on the porcelain rest, and tried to calm her voice, before asking, “have - have you seen my brother today?”

“Lord Kuchiki?” answered the servant. “Not yet ma’am, though I imagine his valet is helping to prepare him. He may have overslept. A late night for the master, perhaps.”

You have no idea, thought Rukia. She herself had been unable to sleep, except in fragments, and had spent the night half awake, remembering the air-splitting whipcrack and the clarity on Byakuya’s tormented face. Those rockpools of sleep she had dipped into were filled with images of him, naked but for torn hakama, his brow shining with sweat and long hair flowing freely. Sometimes he was lying in a deathlike sleep, sometimes scaling a mountain, bleeding from the claws of great cats, and sometimes duelling against an unknown assailant. In every dream he suffered, and in every dream she heard the wind hoarsely growling her name.

Byakuya Kuchiki entered the room like an immaculate white battleship. His kenseikan had been perfectly applied, and his eyes were the same shards of slate Rukia had known since childhood. 

“Brother -” She stood in surprise - had she dreamed it all? - and spilled a tiny dish of sauce onto the table. Byakuya waved an elegant wrist and a servant mopped up the mess with a muslin cloth.

“Sit down, Rukia,” he commanded, and her legs folded beneath her. “We have some matters to discuss.”

He saw me. He knows I was there. Rukia’s heart began to thump. Her brother made no secret of the importance he placed on pride. He would kill in a second to protect his honour. If he knew she had seen him being thrashed like an animal, would he lunge at her and cut her down?

Silence. Both shinigami ate, Byakuya in smooth motions, clearing his plate easily, and Rukia like a nervous bird. Five minutes passed.

“You must know what I want to talk about,” continued Byakuya at last. “It’s extremely serious, and a source of great personal shame for me.” He pinned her with his glare. “I will not tolerate shame marking the Kuchiki name. Do I make myself clear?”

“Y-yes brother,” Rukia’s heart beat faster, and she twisted a simple silver ring on her finger. The captain dabbed at his lips with a linen serviette. Senbonzakura sat at his slim hip, inches from his hand.

“You have lived under our roof since you became a Kuchiki,” continued Byakuya. “You have grown up surrounded by beauty and opportunity, and I consider you my sister, but Rukia, you should know you are in grave danger right now.”

Shifting his weight, the captain drew his zanpakutou and thrust forward, aiming the point of his blade at Rukia’s throat. She gasped and rolled backwards, unsheathing her sword. Byakuya began to glide towards her.

He’s gone crazy, she thought. He’s going to kill me for discovering his secret. A few flakes of snow drifted from her blade. Sode no Shirayuki sensed her fear.

“Dance!” she cried, and a blast of icy air signalled the sword’s awakening. Rukia began to draw an ice circle at her feet with the tip, but before she could finish, the captain raised a hand:

“Enough. Sajō Sabaku.”

The kido rocketed from his fingertips. Rukia staggered backward and fell, her arms bound to her side, as if a giant held her in his fist. 

As she lay on the wooden floor, her spine and elbows bruised from the fall, Byakuya appeared above her. A single snowflake lay in the folds of his scarf.

“Don’t bother to struggle, Rukia. It is time to teach you a lesson.”

“Byakuya, what are you doing?”

“Bakudou. Tanma Otoshi,” came the reply, and everything turned black.


	3. Instruction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lessons begin with the stern captain.

The first sensation was the dull ache, riding up and down her nerve endings and kicking in at the joints. The second was the feeling of being bound like a piece of meat. 

Rukia’s eyes snapped open in a flash of violet, and she fought to focus. A hundred shades of grey separated like paint into a single scene, as she realised where she was. 

The broad cellar had been thoroughly cleaned. No drops of maroon could be seen anywhere on the stone floor. Not a speck was left to tell the tale of the master’s debasement. The smells of sweat and rich iron, so vital and invasive the night before, were nowhere to be discerned. In their place, a musty scent ghosted through the pillared chamber. Silence and no sign of life, as if this were the first time the Kuchiki vaults had ever been opened.

Still tightly restrained by Sajō Sabaku’s glowing ropes, which had been fixed to a large metal ring on the wall, Rukia twisted her head left then right. Where was he?

“Nnnh!” she struggled hard. Maybe if she could get an arm free...but surely he would see her. He was probably watching right now. Unless he had chosen to leave her down here to rot. 

The thought chilled her. Aside from the servant she had seen last night, who had long since fled the seireitei, who else knew about this place? Surely even Byakuya was not so hung up on his pride that he would subject his own half-sister to a slow and agonising death.

Wait though - it wasn’t soundproofed. She had heard the sounds of pain as far away as her bedroom, which meant if she screamed, the servants would find her. She took a deep breath.

“If you scream and they come, they’ll be cut to ribbons.”

Byakuya stepped silently into view. “A coward’s choice, Rukia. This only underlines the importance of our lesson today.”

“What are you doing?” Rukia said softly, searching for her old protector somewhere behind this deathmask. When he ignored her she became angry. “What is this, brother? Do you think it’s honourable to threaten and use kido on an unseated officer when they’ve done nothing wrong? You have a strange idea of pride.”

Calmly, the captain drew from his pocket a black scarf and tied it round his eyes.

“On the contrary, it’s very simple. I told you I would not allow the family name to become marked by dishonour. Your failure to become a seated officer is no light matter. It sends a message to the entire seireitei that perhaps the Kuchikis no longer deserve their reputation as an elite warrior clan. Perhaps they are slipping, and may be overtaken.”   
A sudden draft played with a loose strand of his hair. Rukia shivered.

“It is all very well having the most beautiful zanpakutou in the Soul Society,” he continued, “but what good is beauty if all it highlights is the failure of its wielder?”

He stepped softly towards her, until his smooth cheek met with hers. The black silk of his blindfold brushed her eyelash and she became aware of his warm breath in her ear, as he viciously whispered:

“You can’t rub snow on every wound, Rukia.”

As Byakuya strode away, his breath cooling on her skin, Rukia thought of the whip-slashes lacing his back, beneath the drift of his haori, and remembered again the feral, hunched prisoner grunting with every lash. Her stomach fluttered.

“You will be undergoing extra training with me from now on,” said Byakuya. “You will report to me here each evening.”

Thank God, thought Rukia, feeling foolish for worrying. As if her brother would strike her in earnest!

“Starting now,” said Byakuya, and released the ropes around her arms. “Shakkahō.”

Before the blood could flow fully into her uncreasing limbs, a red fireball flew towards Rukia. Throwing forward her arms, she rolled swiftly out of the way.

“I-I’m not ready!” she screamed, as a wide, sulphur-yellow arc of Ōkasen ricocheted off a wall in her direction. “You could have killed me!”

“You will never be ready unless you have looked straight at death,” came the reply, and Rukia flash-stepped clear of a deadly purple Haien blast.

Even blindfolded, his aim is perfect, she thought, panting. I can’t keep this up. I’m exhausted and I don’t have Sode No Shiroyuki to help me.

“Dodging a level 54 attack - impressive,” said the captain, and his lips nearly smiled, before he pinned them back down and vanished.

Coughing with exertion, Rukia looked wildly around for her attacker. Suddenly, he appeared at her shoulder, and breathed “Tsuzuri Raiden,” into her ear. Hearing the fizz of lightning brewing on his fingertip, Rukia tried to leap clear, but was not quick enough. 

The searing heat split in two, biting the left sleeve and ankle cuff of her uniform. The cloth sizzled and disintegrated. A spark singed her skin and Rukia cried out. In that second, she lost focus, slamming into the corner wall with a groan of pain.

C-can’t move, she thought, tasting blood from a cut on her lip. He could finish me right now. 

One eye pounded as it began to swell. She waited, her small body bruised all over, to find out her fate.

Byakuya slowly untied his blindfold, his gaze piercing into hers.

“Stand.”

So he was going to be merciful. Or perhaps he wanted to make her dance a little longer for his entertainment.

Rukia groaned as she climbed to her feet. Horrified, she realised that half of her uniform was gone, leaving the outer edge of her pale thigh naked, and a scrap of black the only thing between her chest and the chill cellar air. She looked up in protest - surely he didn’t want to humiliate her this way! A glance at the captain told her the order still stood. Stand.

Watching her get achingly to her feet, Byakuya couldn’t help but stare at the milky skin he had never before seen. Seeing her this way awakened something in him that he had tried with all of his will to repress. Imagining stroking that soft thigh, running his long finger up towards that pert breast, its rosy nipple hardening with cold, he was hardly aware that he had begun circling his thumb around the hilt of his sword.

“Byakuya, please -” Rukia pleaded, shivering and drawing her arms around herself.

Her embarassment and the vain attempts to shield her goosebumped chest began, to Byakuya’s surprise, to turn him on. Immediately, waves of shame broke over him. Was he an animal? This was his adopted sister. He was meant to protect her and here he stood before her half-stripped form, having injured her badly. Maddeningly, he could feel himself growing harder by the second.

As Rukia had grown up into, if possible, an even more beautiful version of Hisana, the daydreams had started. Images of her bathing, the water running down her inky hair and licking at her back. Imagined scenes in which she did not see him watching and undressed, soaping herself slowly, her hand reaching lower. Even the million blades of his zanpakutou could not see off the unwanted thoughts. 

Some captain. Some disciplinarian. He had thought to purge himself of these thoughts with night-time flagellations, but they kept returning, like an endless surge of hollows. 

Right now, he was practically dizzy with arousal, his slim thumb almost bruising from its circling of Senbonzakura’s hilt. If he could just -

“Here,” he growled, stripping off his captain’s coat and holding it open for her to step into. 

Puzzled, but relieved that she was no longer under fire, Rukia eased her beaten body into the snowy cloth. As she moved in, her buttocks gently brushed the erection disguised by Byakuya’s flowing garments and he winced in pleasure, stiffening almost unbearably at the contact. 

He longed to grab her small hand and wrap it tightly around the aching in his trousers. Wanted to push his body against hers, feeling her softness against his rigid cock.

His face a winter landscape, Byakuya Kuchiki opened the heavy cellar door, and turned his face from the black-eyed girl wrapped in his haori.

“Go. Bathe and tend to your wounds,” he said serenely. “Return here tomorrow for your second lesson.”

That night, from her bed, Rukia listened to the storm outside. The wind sounded like a man in agony, the snapping of branches like the cracking of a whip.


	4. Submission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lessons get a little hands-on.

“You’re late,” said Byakuya from the shadows, as Rukia entered the cellar.

“I’m so sorry, brother. Captain Ukitake asked us all to stay to help him with a lecture on kido for the students, and then Renji needed me to look over his article for Seireitei Bulletin, and I’d promised I would. I’m sorry - I ran as fast as I could!”

Her plaintive voice and huge eyes quickened Byakuya’s heart. He despised himself for this, but hearing Rukia sounding so sweet and submissive brought filthy thoughts into his uncluttered heart. Focus, focus, he commanded himself.

Taking a breath, Byakuya strode into the light thrown by a wall torch.

“I expect you here on time. Ten minutes could mean three souls torn apart by a Hollow. I will not tolerate lateness. Do you understand?”

A frightened nod.

“Every time you are late from now on, you will have to face one extra attack in training, the level chosen by me.”

“But -”

“I want you to think about this, Rukia. Stopping to talk with idiots like Abarai before coming to me could mean a Captain-level hadou aimed at your heart.” 

“Brother, you’re not serious!”

“I'm absolutely serious. I have never before taken on a student, and I don’t intend to again. You are my only pupil and I won’t allow our lessons to be wasted.”

“Yes, Byakuya.” She understood she should be grateful. Rukia realised someone like Renji would kill for this chance to spend one-on-one time with such a respected fighter. This was an incredible compliment. It was just - she wished she knew what the hell was going on in her brother’s mind. He seemed crueller than Aizen one moment, concerned for her the next and indifferent at other times. And that first night in the cellar; she could not forget the way he had called out. So hoarse and unleashed, as if he were wrenching off painful, heavy armour. It had sounded like "Ru". Rukia? Dare she think it? The memory still sent electric sparks through her, remembering the wetness in her underwear, her fingers moving in time to his groans, thrusting and pulsing.

What did it mean? Maybe she imagined her name. Maybe he was chanting some prayer or kido. Just recently it hadn’t seemed much like he wanted to do anything but train her, even at the risk of her dying. She had become a rag doll to him, flung around their strange assault course. Yet something told her that if a Menos attacked her now, her brother would be in front of her in a flash, sword raised.

He was wearing a loose grey kimono today, that gorgeous hair flowing over the ash fabric. He seemed slenderer without his usual uniform with that subtle muscle definition. A hard body, but one almost feminine in its slenderness.

Snap out of it you idiot! she thought. Why are you even thinking about anything but the fact he might hurl a freaking fireball at you any second?

Rukia drew herself up. She was shaking, and not just from the cold, but something in her wanted him to know she wasn’t afraid.

“Come on then,” she said impudently. “Since you’ve not dressed properly, why not prove to me that you're not still asleep?”

Byakuya’s almond eyes widened in incredulity. Well, now. She had spirit.

“What kind of training is this anyway?” continued Rukia. “You’ve not thrown anything at me that did anything more than damage my clothes.”

She paused, and dared her lips to add: “Or was that deliberate, brother?”

Byakuya said nothing, but tucked a lock of hair behind his neat ear.

“You would be wise not to provoke me, but have it your way. If you found our last session so easy, perhaps we should add a new element to your regime. A little restriction.” The hint of teeth in that last word.

Rukia gasped as he pulled out the black blindfold from the previous session, and she did not struggle or argue as he bound her eyes, those cool fingers pulling her hair a little in the fabric.

“I believe in fairness, so I’m blindfolding myself too,” Byakuya told her. 

Rukia swore she could hear the criss-crossing of silk as he tied on his own mask.

Everything became electric. Suddenly the crickets outside were like chattering crows, and the swish of Byakuya’s robe was like a swordstroke. He was circling her. Did she imagine that his breathing was heavier? It sounded as though he had been running. 

The swishing stopped, and Rukia knew he had flash-stepped away. It was beginning.

Something fizzed in the far corner of the room and she dived into blackness, crying out as a white heat struck her heel and she rolled onto the hard floor. 

Her foot throbbed with pain.

This was suicide. Blindfolded, Byakuya had scorched her, and even then, he had been simply warming up. She couldn't fool herself that he had been fighting at full strength last time. Now she herself had no sight, there was surely no chance. Suddenly Rukia had an idea, and hissed: 

“Bakudou 58 - Kakushisuijaku.”

Byakuya’s spiritual pressure appeared as a ball of blue light in her mind, and she could track his graceful movement from behind her blindfold. Thank God that worked, she thought. 

The captain glid by her right ear, and Rukia heard the brush of his lips as he began to murmur kidou, his slender hands flexing towards her.

Thanks to Kakushisuijaku, the little soul reaper timed her flash step perfectly, reappearing somewhere about 10 feet from the blue light, turning to face it.

“I see,” rang out the voice of the captain, and immediately he cloaked his spiritual pressure, throwing Rukia back into nothingness. A 33 level hadou singed her sleeve and she gasped. Somewhere, a low growl responded.

“Damnit,” Rukia panicked. He was too good, sensing her tactic like that. But why didn’t he strike properly?

Wait. Why was he breathing so deep and fast? Not tired - he had disciplined his body so mercilessly. He was...he was enjoying this. 

As soon as the thought entered her head, she imagined him watching her hungrily, and felt a shiver of pleasure.

Byakuya was struggling to concentrate. Though he couldn’t see her, he could think of nothing but Rukia blindfolded, her slim body vaulting before his powerful attacks, those soft breasts and smooth thighs shifting beneath the thin cotton of her uniform. Each little gasp of hers pricked him with arousal. 

As her tiny footsteps began to tiptoe round the edge of the room, he remembered many nights staring in anticipation at the neatly folded blindfold in his bedside drawer, seeing himself covering her eyes, pulling it snug, picturing her mouth slightly open beneath its embrace, wet and hot. Never thought he would dare to use it on her, and now suddenly, the perfect excuse. The captain swallowed as he moved behind the petite girl, inches from her slender back.

The swallow was enough. Robbed of her spell, Rukia’s senses came back into play, and in a flash, she cast the first kido trick she had ever learned. 

“Hadou number one. Shou!” she cried, and Byakuya was thrown backwards by the defence.

Panting, Rukia removed her blindfold.

“How fitting - a first-year basic besting an arrogant captain. Maybe my big brother should go back to school before playing the teacher.”

Sweet Lord, why was she provoking him like this? What was she trying to do, make him angry?

Well, maybe. 

Rukia could feel Byakuya’s pride rising in him like lava in a volcano, as he stood up, his black hair scruffed, his kenseiken falling to the ground. Untying his blindfold he swung his sword across his silk-clad lap. He fixed her with those grey eyes and that same rush of excitement she had felt at watching him begging to be thrashed flooded into her underwear.

“Maybe he needs a rap on the knuckles,” she whispered.

“Sai,” growled Byakuya, and in a second Rukia was on her knees, hands bound behind her neck, one cheek on the flagstones, her buttocks humiliatingly presented.

From this position, she could see nothing, and tried to wriggle free, but it was like being bound in steel. No escape. 

And with her every struggle, every twist and attempt to break away, Byakuya, standing behind her, felt his cock grew harder.

“Perhaps it is you that needs further schooling,” he said, and Rukia heard the swick of Senbonzakura leaving its sheath. But before she had time to think about death, she felt the needle-sharp blade gently probing between her legs.

Her clitoris pounded like a tiny heart as the steel pulled apart her hakama, leaving her kneeling in nothing but juice-soaked white underpants. Oh god, he could see everything.

Oh god, he could see everything. That snow-white cotton, that firm little arse. Byakuya’s cheeks burned, and he drew back his zanpakutou.

Rukia listened keenly, one cheek on fire, one frozen by the stone. The metallic sweep as the sword was resheathed, and then a second sound. Finer, more like bamboo being bent.

The switch hit her buttocks with a crack, and Rukia gasped in pain, desperately trying to wrest free. A second spanking descended.

“Nnh!” She cried out, as a third switching came down, leaving raging red stripes beneath the white cotton of her underwear.

“You need to learn some manners,” said Byakuya, and Rukia heard the thin whistle of the switch being raised again and brought down.

This time, the pain felt like warmth, the sensation like a hand spreading its nails across her buttocks. Light-headed, blood racing into her swollen clitoris, Rukia realised she liked it. Wanted more discipline from his experienced hand.

“Th-thank you,” she murmured, as the fifth spanking was administered.

Byakuya closed his eyes, his breath shuddering through him, thin mouth ajar with pleasure, and dropped the switch. Unbearably hard, he tried to compose himself.

Suddenly Rukia felt her bonds fall away, and muscular fingers turned her to face the wall.

“Touch yourself.”

There was a ragged, starving edge, subtle but there, in his voice, and she could feel his eyes on her like searchlights, could almost feel the heat and hardness between his legs. As she edged her tiny hand nearer to the waistband of her underpants, she longed to look into his eyes and see him close up, match the look in his eye to that wild-edged voice. But as she tilted her head, she saw no more than his sleeve before he corrected her posture.

“Don’t turn around.”

“Byakuya...”

“Insubordinate students must wear their blindfolds,” said the captain, and tied the black cloth over her burning face. As he pressed into her to administer the restraint, Rukia nearly fainted. His cock was so hard, urgently pushing into the small of her back. She wanted it. She wanted him.

He did not need to repeat the earlier order. Rukia’s knees buckled beneath her and she hardly felt in control of her hand, as she slipped it between her legs. She lay on her back, hand tucked into that soaking cotton as she rubbed her aching clit and pinched the wet lace of her labia, pausing without pushing inside, circling the opening. 

She waited, daring him to give them what they both wanted.

“Deeper,” came Byakuya’s voice, and a sweeping sound told her his hand was grazing the outline of his cock.

“No,” Rukia croaked, desperately wanting to obey. Her wet hole ached for her practised fingers.

“Deeper.” There was a dangerous edge to his voice. “Touch yourself deeper.”

“No, you,” Rukia challenged him. “You touch me.”

That same shuddering breathing. Then nothing. 

You coward, she thought, from inside the blackness. You’re going to leave me here like you always do. So long as your stupid honour is intact, you’ll torture the both of us.

And then he was upon her, his exquisite gown skating over their skins as he tore it off, hotly kissing her neck, tearing what remained of her uniform to lick and suck at her breasts. Those strong fingers, the ones that had destroyed legions of enemies, now thrust wetly into her, as he groaned hungrily. Plunging in again and again. Pinned beneath him, smelling the spiced perfume of his body, the blindfolded Rukia cried out in pleasure.

“Byakuya,” she managed to say, then, wondering if it turned him on as much as it did her, “Master.”

The fingers were removed, and Byakuya, panting heavily, ran his wet fingers up the back of her milk white thighs, pushing them apart.

“Yes,” moaned Rukia, ready to explode. “I want you. Please, Kuchiki-sensei.”

Like a man possessed, Byakuya thrust into her, burying his aching cock at last in that tight, sweet hole. Rukia let out a tiny scream at his size, but gripped his lean buttocks, pulling him deep into her. Pulling back, the captain began to fuck her roughly, low groans escaping his lips as Rukia’s nails scratched his smooth skin. He pulled and rubbed at her swollen nipples as he drove in and out of her, then collapsed forward, still thrusting, his hair covering her chest. 

“Oh God, s-so good. I’m going to come,” drowsed Rukia, desperate to see the animal her teacher had become, but as she reached to pull at her blindfold, Byakuya was too quick, and grabbed her thin wrist. Flipping her onto her stomach, he began to spank her like a schoolgirl as he fucked her harder.

“Ohh, Byakuya-sensei, please,” she begged, and he delivered a final precise spanking as they both came loudly, gasping, shaking like trees in a thunderstorm.


	5. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can Byakuya escape his own demons?

“Stand still,” instructed Byakuya, as he wrapped a strict four inch wide collar around her white throat. As he deftly laced up the back, Rukia felt bones mould themselves to her neck, holding her head high and her back straight. She felt like a slave girl being examined by her owner. The restriction was delicious.

“A Kuchiki should have beautiful posture, even in battle” her brother whispered into her ear, knotting the ribbons holding the collar. “Today you will walk for me. I will watch and correct you.”

Rukia woke up with a headache and a burning heat beneath her fingers. Goddamnit.

Three days had passed. Three times, Rukia had gone to the cellar at the alotted time, heart racing, unable to concentrate on training for the memory of the sting and warmth of the switch on her behind and the feeling of his body on top of her, of his urgent breathing.

Three times she had waited, muscles tensed in anticipation, for him to step quietly in, those eyes trained upon her, and begin their dance. Three times she had stood alone, growing colder and colder, before giving up, tears of frustration in her eyes, and stalking upstairs to her room.

At breakfast each day she asked where Byakuya was. The Kuchiki’s butler always answered simply that the master had already eaten and had gone out to train in the cool morning air.

Byakuya, what are you doing to me? Rukia thought angrily, back in her chamber, as she brushed her hair before the mirror and fingered a pale, dying bruise on her arm. It was incredible. I saw something of you, even with the blindfold on, that I don’t think anyone else ever has. Where are you when I need you?

She folded and unfolded an old scarf from her top drawer, desperate to busy her hands. God, everything seemed so...secondary. Like the rest of the world was a pale shadow play and Byakuya was the only real thing. Captain Ukitake’s voice had become a running brook. Even the bellows of the Squad Eleven thugs were no more disturbing than a roll of thunder in the distance. 

She could lie down and touch herself right now, but it was just no good. Even remembering that resonant voice telling her to go deeper couldn’t quite make it satisfying. He had given her a single delicious crumb. She needed the whole meal.

Several times over the past three days she had seen him sweep through the seireitei, but as quickly as he appeared, he was gone. Practising his flash step? Bullshit. Even in that half-second, she had seen the look in his eye. He was in the same shadow play world as her, going through the motions. He was just not admitting it.

After helping Captain Ukitake with some paperwork, she changed into a plain kimono and went for a walk. It was quiet and the scent of blown out candles wafted from a nearby window.

“What do you suppose is up with your brother?”

Renji lounged on the stairs of the Squad Nine barracks, whittling a piece of maplewood with a dagger.

“I - I don’t know what you mean! What the hell are doing jumping at me like that, you moron?” Rukia felt herself blushing.

“Whoah, easy! What got into you?” Renji put up both hands in a warding motion. “You eat stones for lunch?”

“I’m fine, idiot. What are you even doing here?”

”Wednesday night. Poker with Shuuhei and Izuru,” the lieutenant wagged a thumb at the Squad Nine recreation room. “Only they’re late, so I thought I’d just hang out here. Hey, I thought you were going to join us for some sake at the weekend. Haven’t seen you at all these last few days.”

“I’ve been busy training.” Well, it was the truth.

“Good idea. I’ve been amping up my own training,” nodded Renji. “Man, I want to make Captain so bad.”

I want a captain so bad. Rukia could feel her attention being hijacked by her libido.

“What - what did you mean about my brother? You acted as though something was wrong.”

“Well it could be nothing,” Renji leaned in, glancing around, “but he’s been...I dunno, absent. He’s always so focused, you know? Just recently, he’s been pretty distracted. I had to take the drill this morning. He just wasn’t anywhere to be seen. When he did show up, he acted like I had two heads for asking where he’d been. And yesterday, well, you know there was that...incident...”

“I got the hell butterfly. A Menos - a tough one from the sounds of things.”

“You’re not kidding,” Renji continued. “This one must have been part-arrancar. It was about to decimate a town. Anyway, Captain Kuchiki was on call and led the charge, but, well...” He leaned in closer. “He missed.”

What?

“I wouldn’t have believed it unless I’d seen it, but that thing outstepped him. He came back and finished it off in a stroke, but I’ve never, never seen him miss before. Telling you, something’s seriously up. He seems...I dunno, he seems almost sad. Didn’t think the guy had emotions, but If I didn’t know he was as frigid as a winter pond, well, I’d say it was a woman.”

Rukia’s stomach knotted.

“Or a man. I dunno. It’s his life.”

“It’s a woman,” Rukia blurted. “I mean, I don’t know. You’re right - it’s probably nothing. I mean, you really think...?”

“Well, if you’re feeling brave,” Renji chuckled, a wicked glint in his eye. “Whyn’t you go and ask him?”

Rukia started as Byakuya materialised a few feet away, his scarf dancing in the breeze. At the sight of her, his eyes widened almost imperceptibly, drilling into her, before settling into their usual cold stare. He turned to walk away.

“Brother! Byakuya, wait!”, Rukia cried, and ran towards him. 

Byakuya flash-stepped a few feet further on. The small girl flash-stepped too. Each time she caught up, he vanished again.

“Brother, talk to me!” she shouted, hoping he could hear her, then certain he could. Flash. Vanish. Flash. Vanish. This was exhausting for the little shinigami. Byakuya truly was a shunpou expert. She couldn’t keep this up.

Furious at his easy disregard, Rukia felt her mouth tighten into a snarl. How dare he do this to her? She wasn’t an idiot. He couldn’t just retreat like this.

“You coward!” she heard herself shout. They were over a deserted area of woodland somewhere by the North Gate. Silence.

After a second, Byakuya appeared, his back to her.

“We were meant to train! I waited for you!” Her voice burned with frustration. “I stood there for hours - Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, and you didn’t come. I thought -”

“Training is terminated,” said Byakuya, without turning round. 

“I don’t understand.”

“Go and train with Abarai if you must. I will release him from duties for a few hours.”

“Don’t mock me, brother.” Rukia clenched her fists, her headache returning. “I want you.”

“I am not fit to teach you,” said the captain. “Our last session was...inappropriate.” 

“No!” Rukia was outraged. “No, you can’t do -”

“I would advise you to stop following me,” came the cool reply, and Byakuya turned to show that perfect profile, unsmiling and devastating. “Go now. Run through your drills with your own captain.”

Seeing those beautiful lips dismissing her as if she were an annoying child, Rukia’s anger swelled, and the heat between her legs grew too. The bastard. How dare he make her feel so strong and alive one moment, only to crush her the next?

“Go home, sister.”

That word, thrust forward like a sword. So we’re siblings now, when it suits you, thought the small shinigami. You coward. You absolute coward.

If she could only stop him. Already he was turning away, and she could feel beneath the harsh exterior, that he was in conflict.

“Saijou Sabaku!” She flexed her fingers at Byakuya’s spine as light shot from them.

“Don’t bother,” he batted away the binding kidou. “An unseated officer cannot hope for their spiritual pressure to hold a captain. You are simply too weak. This conversation is over.”

A strange feeling came over Rukia. It felt as though she was suddenly being filled like a pitcher with molten lava. The warmth rose through her sandalled feet, up her legs, past her burning core and into her head, until she felt ready to explode. Power rushed through her veins, power unlike any she had felt before. Her purpose and her pent-up energy rushed intense spiritual pressure into her body. At the same time, she felt her mind grow clear, and the anger dissipate, as she realised what was happening, and what she must do.

“I said, Saijou Sabaku,” she growled. This time, her fingertips were scorched as the bright light fired, in a bright javelin, at Captain Kuchiki.

The glowing ropes clamped around him, as he struggled, wide-eyed, against the basic kidou. Still pulsing with power, Rukia fired Soukatsui at her brother’s heels, and he grimaced, falling to the ground. Cherry blossom flew into the air as he landed.

“How can this - nnhh - be?” he writhed under the restraints as the violet-eyed girl appeared above him.

“Perhaps you pushed me too far,” Rukia’s mouth was still as tight as a drumskin. 

“I cannot teach you. There is nothing to be gained from this.”

“Or perhaps,” continued Rukia, “I realised what was going on. That you don’t want to stop training any more than I do. You just can’t handle what happened, and what I saw of you.”

“Release me, and I will ask for clemency at your court martial,” the captain said calmly. “We can say it was an exercise that got out of hand.”

“As you’re the one in bondage, I’m giving the orders, brother.”

What was this? What had possessed her? Byakuya’s immaculate haori was marked with grass stains from the fall. A lock of hair had fallen out of place, and his mouth was slightly open, as he breathlessly waited for her next move. How had she summoned such control? That look in her eye - in that moment, she had looked majestic. Beautiful.

“If you say the word ‘sakura’,” said Rukia, kneeling and scattering a couple of petals onto the bound captain’s scarf, “I’ll stop. Only that word will do.”

“Release me Rukia,” threatened Byakuya, his stare like a kidou blast. “I will not play games.”

For a second, she believed him. And then a look passed between them that told her he was in.


	6. Sakura

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final part!

“Stop this foolishness,” said the captive again.

Rukia knelt by her brother’s side. They had only been this close a handful of times, and never had she looked down on him before. Their eyes locked and - could it be? - she saw the slightest hint of panic in those grey rockpools. What could he be afraid of? Not her, so...himself?

“Rukia, remember your place -” Byakuya began sternly, before a whispered spell by his captor caused the bonds pinning his arms to his flanks to shift and travel like snakes up his body. That same raw power that had enabled her to trap a captain still tingled in Rukia’s nerve endings, as the ropes of Saijou Sabaku split and encircled each of Byakuya’s slender wrists, raising them past his head and bringing them together in a kiss. He closed his eyes and sighed.

It was the ultimate humiliation: to be bound and helpless meant the death of honour, the trait Byakuya set most store by. That the binding had been accomplished by one so much lower in rank made his wretched position ten times as mortifying. As the pressure built behind Byakuya’s eyes, the fear entered his mind that someone might walk by and find him like this. The great Captain Kuchiki, trussed up by his own little sister. His heartbeat quickened.

As her brother lay there, eyes still closed, his arms stretched and fixed to the earth behind him, Rukia’s eyes fell on his cloth-draped chest. She began to push apart the folds of uniform, noting a slight intake of breath as her fingers touched her brother’s smooth skin. Placing the point of her sword on the seams, she cut away the precious haori and uniform, sliding away the fabric until Byakuya was topless.

As the last scrap of linen grazed his nipple, Byakuya inhaled sharply. He had not felt so vulnerable since childhood, and strangely, he felt safe.

Rukia looked at her handiwork. Seeing that beautiful body laid out before her, and knowing what it was capable of, was turning her on immensely. Byakuya’s upper half had been worked and toned hard but otherwise he had remained almost girlishly slim. She dared herself to run a finger over those muscles, and felt a stiffening in his body as her touch traced his sensitive points.

“S..stop,” he murmured, feeling his cock growing hot and full.

“Sakura,” she reminded him gently, and continued. Her fingers danced their way down his gorgeous torso, stopping before the waistband of his hakama and playing for a second with the material. 

Every disturbance caused the fabric to pull against his hardness, triggering tiny explosions of pleasure. Byakuya complained wordlessly, straining against his bonds. This was torture and she was an expert at it. He was heart-stoppingly afraid of her uncovering his arousal, and yet desperate for her to do so.

Rukia felt a warm wetness pooling on her inside thigh as she knelt, cutting away the Kuchiki kenseiken from his beautiful hair. She could tell, even covered by the hakama, that Byakuya’s body was responding to her touch. She wanted to look at it and lay hands on it, wanted to use this chance to finally see him at his most open and vulnerable. Wanted him to call her name. If only she could summon the courage.

Damnit, THIS was why was an unseated officer. This fear of the unknown. She was not about to lose the one thing she was certain of to the same inhibitions.

Leaning in close to Byakuya, she kissed his eyelids, prompting a small exhalation. Then she placed her lips on his and felt him shiver with anticipation, opening to her kiss. Drawing back the folds of his pristine trousers, she felt heat and hardness, and as her hand closed around his swollen cock, he moaned like a man possessed.

“R...Rukia! My God, Rukia...”

Rukia tightened her grip and began to slide it up and down the shaft, as the captain’s hips rocked gently into the delicious sensation. As her thumb passed over his agonised glans, he ached to be released, not knowing what would happen. Up and down, the tiny hand rose and fell, teasing him unbearably. He felt frenzied and feral, like a cornered animal, utterly at her mercy. 

Suddenly the hand vanished. Byakuya’s eyes flashed open in dismay, only to see Rukia, her bright eyes trained on him, sliding each of her fingers into her mouth. Wet with saliva, the grip once again tightened around his cock and she increased the pace, coaxing gasps of pleasure from the captain.

“I...I can’t...bear this...”

Hearing him surrender such confessions only increased the pounding in Rukia’s clitoris. He was the same sexual creature who had taken her in the cellar, desperate and wild, and she wanted so badly to leap on him and sink onto that hard cock. This time, when she kissed him, he kissed back passionately, held back only by his strict bondage. The vibration of his low moan, as she continued to masturbate him, resonated through his lips.

Letting go, she brought her face level with the opening in his hakama, and ran the very tip of her pink tongue up the underside of his shaft, causing him to holler raggedly.

“S...Sakura!” cried the captain, his eyes rolling back in his head.

There it was. A girl of her word, Rukia vanished the bonds sadly, expecting him to stalk furiously away. 

For a second, sitting up as the feeling came back into his arms, the captain’s actions were uncertain. Then Byakuya rolled on top of her, ferociously kissing her, one arm beneath her head forcing her mouth onto his, as broken breaths thundered from his body.

His weight. Oh god, she’d dreamed of this sensation since the cellar. Feeling deliciously trapped beneath that powerful body, smelling cinnamon and mint and fresh sweat as he kissed her uncontrollably, that cock pressed against her stomach. She nearly came from his kisses alone, her cheeks on fire as his tongue plunged repeatedly into her sweet mouth.

“I want you, Byakuya,” she gasped between kisses. “Don’t blindfold me this time. I want to see you come.”

The captain once again pushed her firm legs apart, and waited for a moment, staring at the glistening liquid dampening her dark curls, running a finger lightly over her clit. Then he drove into her, pulling almost completely out before thrusting that hardness back in again and again.

“Byakuya...teacher...” moaned Rukia, tightening around his pounding cock, hearing him groan as she used his title.

“Rukia...I can’t...control myself...” His silken black hair flew about him as he fucked her, his motions growing rougher and more animalistic. “I need you. Oh God, oh God...”

He grabbed her slim legs and lifted them onto his shoulders, pushing into her again as she scratched his moon-white back with her nails. With each new welt, he winced and thrust harder.

“Sensei, I...I can't stop myself!!” cried the small shinigami, her small heart nearly overcome. Hearing her use that title drove Byakuya over the edge. Pinning her skinny arms back behind her head, he drove mercilessly into her, staring her down, and she cried out in pleasure.

“You’re mine. Say it.” he whispered hotly in her ear, hips grinding into her.

“”I’m yours...all yours,” Rukia panted, dizzy with her building climax. “Ah! Ah, Byakuya-sensei!”

Her legs shook uncontrollably as she came. As she tightened around him, Byakuya threw his head back and cried out hoarsely, his orgasm running hotly into her like molten gold.

* * *

They sat beneath the nearest cherry tree for some time, listening to the minivet song twittering over the seiritei. What remained of Byakuya’s haori was draped over the two of them.

“When I was 17, I allowed myself to be cajoled into visiting a Rukon brothel,” said Byakuya, brushing a cherry blossom from Rukia’s hair. “Several younger members of the Kasumioji clan teased me until I gave in.”

Rukia was shocked, but said nothing. Let this river flow.

“It was a deeply uncomfortable experience,” continued Byakuya. “They were laughing at me the whole time. Set me up with a prostitute who mocked me for not wanting to sleep with her. She laughed at me, asking if I couldn’t manage it...treating me like a child. I felt...ashamed that I had allowed myself to be persuaded to come here. Ashamed for myself and what I represented. Kuchiki men are not whoremongers. My father always talked about discipline, integrity and strength, and here I stood, heir to the great clan, being laughed at by a cheap Rukon whore in some dingy back-room.”

He paused, a strand of hair falling forward into his silhouette.

“I was desperate to stop what was happening. My angriest side wanted to kill her, to stop her vulgar mouth. But I realised quickly that that action would make me a cruel, weak and brutal man. After all, I deserved her mockery for allowing my pride to be defined by the childish Kasumiojis. Still, I needed to feel as though I had at least some control...some mastery over my own identity.”

“What did you do?” Rukia asked, feeling her brother’s arm tightly around her.

“I left, her laughter still ringing in my ears,” Byakuya’s brow furrowed. “And then I trained myself into injury at the Academy, trying to forget about women until such time as I needed to marry.”

“Then you met Hisana.”

“She was beautiful and kind. My father was concerned about her lack of nobility, but he saw how happy I was with her...I worry sometimes that I married Hisana simply because I saw she was meek. Too meek to laugh at me.”

“Surely not. Brother, you loved her!”

“I fought my urges for a long time, but one night, a year after our wedding, I asked her if I could punish her. I don’t think she understood why, but she agreed to comply, and submitted to being whipped, as you were, with the bamboo switch.”

He paused and looked away.

“It was a disaster. She was brave, and bore the pain, but I saw in her eyes that she felt great shame and unhappiness. Confusion at my cruelty. I broke the switch and hardly dared touch her again. I was disgusted with myself.”

“And yet, I couldn’t kill this part of myself. When you entered the clan, after Hisana’s death, it was as though the windows had been flung wide and the air had come in. As you grew up, I found myself admiring your spirit more and more. Even when injured, you would be keen to return to the battlefield. Truly, you had the clan bravery, even if your blood was not Kuchiki. I found myself...forgive me...I found myself wondering whether you could stand...”

He exhaled and rested the back of his head against the tree trunk, staring at the sky.

“After the training session in which we...I felt like a criminal. No, like an animal. I had assumed a position of trust and abused you through that role.”

“No...brother, I wanted it too...believe me,” Rukia stroked his long neck, and he fixed those charcoal eyes on her.

“When you bound me, it felt as though all of my responsibilities and pressures just...melted away. I felt like I had permission to be myself. Rukia, you made me feel...normal again. How did you know?”

“I...I saw you,” Rukia began tentatively. “The evening of May 10. With the servant...in the cellar.”

Byakuya’s eyes widened, and for a second, Rukia feared he might vanish in shame.

“You looked so beautiful, brother. The way you fought yourself. I can’t think of a tougher foe...I wanted so badly to help you. I wanted you.”

Byakuya kissed her softly on the lips, squeezing her to him, and the two of them sat a while longer, listening again to the birdsong.

* * *

Five months later.

“Heeyyyy, Rukia!”

Renji’s voice echoed through the Squad Four barracks. Rukia downed her herbal tea in time to see her friend’s spiky hair pop around the ward door.

“How’re you feelin’, hero?” He shook her hand jokingly.

“Not so bad - those Hollows’ll have to belch out a lot more energy balls to get me down for the count,” Rukia smiled, touching the bruises on her chest gingerly.

“That’s the spirit! Seems like training paid off for both of us,” grinned Renji, bringing the rest of himself around the door.   
Rukia gasped as she saw the white captain’s coat.

“Oh my god! Congratulations, you idiot!”

“That’s Squad Five Captain Idiot to you,” grinned her friend. “They must have figured Momo could use some entertainment to lighten her spirits. Plus, I could do with some kidou tips.”

“I see you’ve told Ms Kuchiki some of the good news,” a gruff voice from behind Renji said. Head Captain Yamamoto materialised in the doorway.

“Sir!” cried the friends in unison, and Renji fell to his knees.

“At ease, Captain Abarai,” said the Head Captain. “Tell me, Rukia, since when did an unseated officer get reckless enough to take on and defeat ten Hollows and a Menos on their own?”

“Sir, it was foolish of me -” began Rukia apologetically.

“It’s the sort of behaviour I expect of a lieutenant,” continued Captain Yamamoto. “Probably an impetuous, newly-promoted lieutenant at that...”

It took a second for his words to sink in. 

“S-Sir?” Rukia bit her lip excitedly.

“Report to the next Captain’s meeting after your recovery to be instated,” said the old general, turning to leave, “and congratulations, both of you. It seems the Rukon district turns out warriors just as fine as those from noble stock.”

“Oh, thank you! I won’t let you down, Head Captain!” Rukia stuttered. “Oh, but Sir?”

The Head Captain turned without a word.

“Sir, forgive me, but, well, you see, my squad leaves our lieutenant’s place vacant out of respect for Kaien Shiba, our comrade and the previous holder of that title. I’m not sure if it’s right -”

“Oh heavens, I understand that. I wouldn’t dream of cutting through Juushirou’s tradition,” waved Yamamoto. “But with Captain Abarai’s promotion, there is a second squad in need of a strong lieutenant..."

Rukia's eyes widened.

"Captain Kuchiki seems very amenable to this idea,” added the Head Captain, and strolled off, smiling to himself.

As soon as he had gone, the two friends flew into a hug, laughing like children.

* * *

That night, two figures met by the koi pond in the breathtaking Kuchiki gardens

“Keep me sane, Rukia,” said the taller figure.

“I will protect you, Sir,” came the reply, and the two embraced, kissing as though there were nothing left to fear.

THE END


End file.
